Burning In The Skies
by ArchangelCorps
Summary: What made him stop feeling sorry for himself and turn that hatred of the church into a passion he used to destroy those murderers, as he would later call them? Referenced Priest/Shannon, very faint, underlying Priest/Priestess.


I'm firmly against disclaimer's as I think the very work being on a site called _fan_fiction would dictate we don't own it, however I will note that 'Towering,' 'Blonde,' and 'Albino' are my own characters. Also, take note, there is a lot of things in here that may not of been mentioned in the film or may vary from it- I'll explain why I did this at the bottom, as explaining it now would spoil my fic.

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><p>The town had become an inferno, all because one of them had thrown a torch off balance as it sprung up an took a civilian out. Most of them had been tired, their guard down. Priests were still humans, after all. Dawn wasn't too far away, either- they had no reason to suspect such an attack would be made. That mistake would have to be avoided in the future- several civilians were lost. Even a few Priests had perished in the attack.<p>

It was the first taste of the war that one particular Priest had gotten, though most of them had been waging the war and been in conflict just as bad as this since they were ten. But not him. His powers had developed far later than theirs, into his mid twenties. By that time he'd already married the love of his life and had a child with her. Their daughter was little more than two when the clergy came for him, claiming it was for the greater good.

_To hell with the greater good!_ He remembered telling them. Remembered the hatred that had burned deep down into his soul whenever they forced him to leave. Remembered silent tears rolling down his cheeks as he talked to his brother, then only seventeen, about essentially adopting his daughter and taking care of her as his own in his absence. Remembered embracing, kissing, his wife that last time before the clergy had one of their Priests annul their marriage and remembered being harshly lead away by one of the guards to be returned to the church.

He also remembered fighting them tooth and nail for months on end, even after all the beatings he received for his rebellion, until the last one finally broke his will to fight. That hatred had never dissipated, always burning even in his submission.

Until now.

Seeing the vampires burst from the ground or tear through the town, watching the Priests fight, the fires rage, hearing the people scream. His hatred seemed to just fizzle out, all thoughts of his pain being shoved to the back burner as he saw it all unfold.

One word echoed in his mind.

_Selfish._

It was for the greater good. Now he understood the reasoning behind taking him from his family. His happiness seemed so insignificant next to stopping these monstrosities. Next to saving everyone.

A shrill cry behind him pulled him from his daze, which had only lasted for a few seconds. He turned in time to see one of the smaller structures, all wooden and black from the fire, give way. The cry had come from inside. The Priest didn't waste another time running to the building. One of the steps broke under his feet, but he just jumped to the next and stepped through the door. He saw the man first, bloody, buried under burning debris- eyes staring blankly.

He grimaced, pulling his cloak up to his mouth but his head snapped to the side as he heard a small cough. There, he found the source of the cry he'd heard; a young boy that bore a striking resemblance to the man.

"H.. Help me! Please!" He begged between growing sobs of pain and terror. He wasn't buried to the extent of the man, but his legs were caught under a fallen support beam and his pants were catching fire. He was struggling with it a bit but he could do little.

Glancing around for anything to help with, any other Priests, he found nothing, no one, so he just moved to grab the support beam. "Easy... I'll get you out." He said, ignoring the burns his bare fingers were sustaining as he struggled and lifted it, ignoring the fire lighting on his gloves and making it's way up his sleeves. It was getting harder to breathe through all the smoke, but he didn't give until he lifted it and pushed it aside. He took a moment to remove his cloak and gloves, even having to rip away the sleeves of his shirt from the elbow down.

The child screamed, the Priest flinched, and then fell to his knees beside him, ripping the unburned end of the cloak apart from the burning past, using it to put the fire out on the boys clothing. His hands were dark, already blistering, but he paid no mind to it- the boys legs were blistering as well, and twisted at all angles.

"Just hold still, I've got you." He said softly, picking the child out. Between the crackling and popping of the fire, there was a deep groaning.

Priest cast a glance up, seeing the shift in the ceiling, before looking at the doorway. It was blocked by flames, and debris had fallen in the way. He grit his teeth, looking around The windows were blocked by fire and debris and he couldn't get to the back; the collapse that had killed the boys father blocked it. He looked over.

Stairs. Burning. But intact. That was there only way out and he took it, starting up them. He could feel the instability. One cracked below his foot and he stumbled, a hand reaching out to grip the loose railing. He swallowed, looking down at the boy he held in his arms, who was watching over his shoulder.

"Pray with me, child." The boy's attention turned to him as he spoke, the terror visible in his eyes, as well as the confusion. He was young, but he could hear the pleading in the Priest's tone. He gave a small nod, saying nothing in response.

The corners of his lips twitched into a faint smile as his blue eyes went to the top of the stairs as he began his ascent again.

"_Our Father who art in Heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come."_ His voice shook faintly as he spoke, but the small voice that repeated the line after him didn't, though the way those little hands gripped at his shirt indicated fear. Still, the firmness of that tone gave him the resolve to push on up the stairs.

"_They will be done in Earth, as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread."_ Just a few more steps. He didn't afford himself the time to think of what they would find up there. He could hear things below falling, hear the deep creak of weak boards under his feet.

"_And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors."_ As he spoke this line, and he stepped onto the second floor, the shakiness in his voice subsided, strengthening his resolve and giving him the will to fight the vampires, regardless of what had been done to him in the past. The boy repeated every word as the Priest looked the room over. The fires had gotten up there, as well, with some of the windows blocked by fire and debris, and one part of the floor was collapsed.

"_And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."_ He saw one window, one not covered in debris or by fire. Beside it, a small table. He moved quickly as the little voice copied his words, trying to open it. It was locked. He nodded to himself; he knew what he would do.

"_For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory."_ He grabbed the table with one blistered hand, raising it. He drew back, and threw it. The glass shattered with ease, the boy flinching but he didn't fall silent.

"_For ever and ever. Amen."_ He reached forward to knock the glass out, ignoring the shards that stuck in his already wounded hand.

"For ever and ever. Amen." The boy repeated, tucking his head into the Priest's shoulder, grip tightening as the Priest held him closer, climbing onto the window sill.

The building shook, and he only had a moment to scan the streets below for any vampires.

Clear.

He jumped as it gave way on its own weight. He made it to the other roof, his foot slipping as he landed on it, and he hit his knees, but managed to catch himself, likely due to the material of the roof catching on his clothing than anything. He scrambled back to his feet without a moment to rest, though. This building was on fire as well. He found one side of the building that had a few crates below, keeping his hold on the boy just the same as he had when he jumped from the collapsing building.

The child never lifted his head, silent, but calm now, and the Priest didn't waste anymore time. He knelt, before allowing himself to jump down over the edge.

But, he overestimated the strength of the crates and they shattered under their combined weight. He hit the ground, managing to put an arm out and ensure he fell on his back- not the child.

The boy pulled back a bit, still gripping the Priest's shirt and using his arms to support himself o him, looking at the faint grimace on his rescuers face. "Are you okay...?" He asked quietly.

The Priest gave a nod, the fall knocking the air out of him and rending him unable to talk.

Then they both heard it. Erratic thumping like heavy boots hitting the dirt. Two, three, four at a time.

They looked over in time to see one of the vampires bound to a stop at the end of the alley they had fallen in. It's head swung around to look at them, sniffing at the air, before baring it's teeth. The child's eyes widened, he screamed, and the monster roared in response. It dove.

The Priest pulled the boy back down against him, wrapping his arms around him, and tried to shield the boys head with his. Even with his training, he couldn't have hoped to stop it in time. The boy squeezed his eyes shut, but Priest's never left the vampire. He wasn't afraid for himself, though. Only the child.

The vampire's body seemed to flinch back, something swung out and wrapped around it. The Priest didn't see what at first, but as it swung around again he saw a sharp edged cross he recognized instantly. And just like that, the rope tightened, and the vampire was torn apart. He looked past the bloody remains of the vampire, faintly surprised and so relieved to see the young woman, her dark hair pulled back into a tight braid, walking over to them as she withdrew the rope.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

He nodded, sitting up now and the child turned his head a bit to see what had happened. He wiped his eyes- he'd been terrified in that instant, but you could see his relief too.

"Better than we were about to be." The Priest said, getting to his feet. He still held the child, who's legs, he noticed now, hung limp. "But his conditions bad." He added, frowning.

The Priest's wounds weren't so good either, but the Priestess knew well the boy's condition was worse. "Let me take him. We've set up a safe spot for the wounded. A few of us are protecting it- I'll take him back. Get those hands looked at when day breaks." She nodded, extending her hands to take the child. The Priest hesitated... but he finally nodded and handed him off to her. Her rank and experience was higher than hers, and he knew she'd do better protecting him.

"Be careful." He said as she passed, quickly. She looked at him, smiled a bit, and nodded. But she said nothing and left to get the child to safety. He watched until he heard something heavy on the roof behind him. He turned to see the vampire on the building. The fear in his eyes was gone, though he wasn't entirely confident in his abilities. He hadn't fought one yet. But that didn't deter him, as he with drew the dagger from his robes.

There was a sick squish as a vampire's head hit the ground, and a dull thud as it's body collapsed nearby. The dark headed Priest smirked as he whirled and rendered a lunging vampire in two with his dual blades, watching it's body collapse. His robes were oddly neat, not disheveled as horribly as the scene may have suggested they should've been.

"You really do enjoy killing those creatures, don't you?" His companion, a towering, muscular man that was only a few inches short of seven feet. His bright blue eyes displayed kindness, caring, even through all of this, and his blonde hair was kept short like the rest. His robes, however, were a mess. He bore dual blades as well, only his were larger, longer, and far heavier- giant, bladed crosses held at the sides of his hands, but not like how a sword was held. Both were bloody.

"This is what I was born to do. Of course I enjoy it." The fearsome Priest said, hazel eyes looking up at him, a dangerous glint in them, that lust for battle that was always there but only occasionally shined through. His attention turned from the towering Priest, looking for another vampire.

The end of the town they were on had suffered from the attack far worse than the side the other Priest and the Priestess had been on. Most buildings were black, burning piles now, and the vampires were running a muck. Civilians lay dead, ripped apart, necks broken; all variety of damage done to their bodies. The streets were almost red from it.

He saw one land just down the road, eyes lighting up again. He lunged easily tearing through it as the towering Priest watched. Another two came at him, one from an alley, the other from a roof top. The towering Priest started to do something to help, but as he saw that smirk only grow, he held back.

The fearsome Priest twisted between the two, just avoiding their fangs, though their claws ripped into his sides and shoulders. He paid it no mind, bringing one arm up. The vampire screamed - at least, they assumed it was a scream - as the blade sank into it's stomach and split it in two from there up, the hips being the only part of it holding the two halves together. The other arm swung out, cutting the other one clean in two across the stomach.

After inspecting the bodies, he turned to look at the towering Priest. That smirk was still there, even as he moved to point lightly behind him.

The towering Priest gave no indication of his surprise, whirling to run the end of one of the giant crosses through a vampire, using the other to take it's head off. He let the body slid off the blade, turning as the fearsome Priest stepped up.

"I know how amazing my skill in combat is, my brother, but you really shouldn't drop your guard like that." He said, to which the towering Priest only rolled his eyes. But his attention went elsewhere, looking over to find one of the other Priest's approaching. This one's cloak was gone, as were the majority of his sleeves. This was their newest Priest. "You've taking a beating, haven't you?" He asked, looking at the rips in his robes, the blood everywhere on him... the burned, blistered hands.

The Priest shook his head. "I've taken worse." Was all he said. He didn't look like one for talking. They both knew the look in his eyes, the tone in his voice. He'd never seen the war like this. He'd probably fought the vampires on a few occasions with improvised weapons or with guns - how else did the clergy realize his abilities? - but he'd never seen a full scale attack like this before.

The fearsome Priest just gave a nod of understanding, looking over as he noticed the towering Priest looking skyward. It was starting to turn a gray color now, no longer the white-dotted black.

"The attack won't last much longer." He mused, more thinking aloud to himself than really commenting to them. There was a flicker of disappointment in the fearsome Priest's eyes, but he nodded.

"They'll die if they try to stay much longer..." The noise had already died down to the crackle and roar of the flames, with the snarls and growls of the vampires and the occasional scream of the civilian, or the sound of metal lodging into something and flesh, human and vampire alike, being torn apart having stopped almost entirely. They all turned, however, at the sound of soft footsteps moving quickly towards them. Not erratic, not vampiric- human.

It was a little girl. She couldn't have been but four years old., with wavy blond hair that already hung past her shoulders and a dull, pink dress. In her small hands she gripped a teddy bear, worn, old, and moth-eaten.

The Priest was the first one to react moving towards her but he didn't rush. He didn't want to frighten her, though most of the people there knew the Priests were there to help. He reached a blistered hand out to her. "Honey, are you alright...?" He asked softly.

She turned her dark brown eyes up to his blue eyes. They were still a good distance apart, but he could see her move faster to get to him. He hesitated as she did, though- fearful for a moment that he'd moved too quick himself and startled her. This proved not to be the case, as her attention turned down another road. He couldn't see- he was too far away, and by the time her eyes widened, he didn't have the chance to react to the vampire that lunged from the road for her.

The scream she let out was cut short by a sickening snap that even the other two Priests could hear.

"No!" The Priest yelled, and like that he was gone, around the corner of the road it'd disappeared down with her. He pulled the dagger from it's place, watching it move, aimed at where he knew it would go, and threw. The blade spun through the air, striking the vampire clean in the back of the head, splitting it's skull and sinking in clear to the hilt. He didn't even go to check, knowing it was dead as it ran down into the ground and flipped, landing a few feet away as her body was dropped.

He felt to his knees beside her, moving to gently lift her from the ground. He grimaced as he head hung down, bent unnaturally, her dull eyes still wide with terror. He pulled her gently onto his lap, supporting her head on his arm, one hand moving to brush a strand of brown hair out of her face. He couldn't stop the tears from welling up in his eyes even as he felt the fearsome Priest's hand on his shoulder.

Later he would have nightmares about vampires attacking in gruesome detail, watch as they tore through Shannon, his brother Owen, and then his little girl... who didn't look too far from this child he held in his arms then, only being a few years younger. But none of that came to mind as he leaned lightly into the arm now over his shoulder. Fearsome had knelt beside him.

"She was just a little girl..."

The Priestess' dark eyes looked up from his hands as she tended the burns and blisters. He was staring off blankly, lost in thought, mind going back to the attack, the little boy, his dead father... the little girl. Her fallen teddy bear, which he had picked up on his way back to the area they set up for survivors, to place her body with the others to be given a proper funeral. He had tucked it gently under her arms as he laid her down, closing her eyes.

The sun was gradually making it's way to the center of the sky above, the vampires gone and most of the dead cleaned up, the wounded being tended to, just as he was currently.

"In War, you can't save everyone." She said. "It's sad to see children die but it's an inevitability... that inevitability is why we fight to stop them." But she sighed, shoulders slumping faintly as she turned her gaze back to his hands. "At least it killed her instantly."

He looked at her, but he didn't say anything. Couldn't say anything. Didn't know what he could say, either. But he found himself wondering what she'd seen, wondered what all of the Priests had seen. He didn't want to think about what her last comment meant, but since he didn't ask, she didn't elaborate.

A smaller, blonde haired Priest met him as he stepped into a tent of sorts they'd set up- most everything else was burned down.

"Hello, brother." The blonde Priest offered a faint smile, but it said nothing of happiness.

The Priest nodded to the blonde one. "I came to see about the young boy the Priestess brought in during the attack... the one with the burned legs?" He asked, but frowned as the blonde Priest's face fell.

"She said you might... his condition isn't good, but he'll pull through." The blonde gestured, turning to lead the Priest back through to a separate area in the tent where the more critical civilians were being tended to by an albino Priest. The albino gave them a nod and, seeing Priest there, gestured towards the back where the bo was asleep, covered up, and the two stepped quietly back there.

He knelt beside the sleeping boy. The scrapes and minor burns he'd sustained had been patched up, and seeing that, Priest's eyes went towards the boys legs.

The blonde frowned as he followed his face, where the blanket flattened out too soon, seeing the pained shift in the man's pale eyes. "His legs were crushed beyond repair... the burns were what made amputations necessary. We would've lost him by now, had we of left them."

More tears threatened to spill from the Priest's eyes and he moved a bandaged hand to rub them. He shook his head. "Have you found his mother yet...?" He asked, looking at him. The look o the blonde one's was all the answer he needed as he stood up. "Thank you." He muttered quietly, moving past him to see what work he could help with. He needed something to take his mind off it for a bit, because, while he had no idea at the time, sleep certainly wasn't going to offer him any safety from the nightmares he'd witnessed for the first time firsthand that night.

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><p>Okay, so you'll have to first take note that I roleplay Priest a lot, the series and the character, sometimes using reincarnation as a tool to use him more... naturally, in crossovers. So, therefore, this leads to a lot of crazy stuff and occasionally an inconsistency I want to correct. In this, we actually dealt severe burns to Priest's hands that left scars. Granted, maybe the Priestess took such good care of them that they didn't burn! But that is why I put that in.<p>

Now, on one hand it sounds like maybe Priest did leave willingly, but we - me and my roleplay partner - also came to the conclusion that he sounded like he'd been forced, leading us to guess maybe it was a matter of his family's life. So, hence. He sounded broken to us, as well, which is where the beatings I mentioned came in. This story is actually centered on the event that I thought maybe actually made Priest want to fight for the church, to push all his personal feelings aside. Hence, I decided to use a large-scale attack on the town, and that's also why I turned harsh - or maybe that's just all the Stephen King I read - and left one kid without legs and another dead.

Oh, and Owen's age. This is big for me- they always talked about sacrifices and etc, and I pointed out to my friend that he just looked tired, so we essentially thought "What if he wasn't much more than a child himself, whenever he took up the role of being Lucy's father?" Thus, seventeen.

ps. Also. Story title; Linkin Park. Yeah.

pps. Fearsome is Black Hat. I took that from the original screenplay. His weapons, also, are featured in the deleted scenes on the Priest dvd, I think.


End file.
